


Waver

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22023517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Sam’s worried about setting out.
Relationships: Frodo Baggins/Sam Gamgee
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	Waver

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Lord of the Rings or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It doesn’t take long before he misses home. They haven’t even fully left the Shire yet, but Hobbiton’s enough—they pass the rolling hills that Sam’s known all his life, and suddenly it feels like they’re lost in the wide world. They take such long walks through the planes dotted with trees, along rocky ledges and over tiny streams, and Sam gets that little taste of what it’s like to be truly be _on the road_. Frodo tells him the terrain’s still gentle—that it’s wildly different elsewhere, and Sam’s heard all of Bilbo’s stories. But it already feels different. They stop along a battered dirt path in the middle of a sparse forest, and Sam feels a huge pang of _homesickness_. He clutches his chest and breathes, trying to push it back, because that’s ridiculous. They’ve barely gone anywhere. They can hardly turn around and just go back. But a part of him wants to. He swore he’d follow Frodo every step of the way, but maybe he’s not cut out for _adventures._

He wanders slowly along the trail of footprints Frodo’s left. The sun’s still high, the day young, and it’s easy to spot Frodo at the edge of a shallow creek. He’s set down his pack and taken off his cloak. Sam wonders if he should speak his fears aloud, because maybe Frodo will be able to assuage them. Except that would put the burden on Frodo’s shoulders, and that wouldn’t be right, so Sam keeps his troubles to himself. 

Instead, he watches Frodo dip a toe into the rushing water. His face tilts, smilingly lightly, pink lips parting as he laughs over the sensations—the water looks cold, but it’ll still be pleasant—they’ve already gone too long without baths. Too long without tea. It feels so _improper._ Frodo’s arms lift, and it takes Sam a second to realize what he’s doing.

Frodo shrugs out of his jacket and lets it fall to the rocks behind him. He begins unfastening his shirt, and the next thing Sam knows, he’s watching the crisp white fabric slide down Frodo’s smooth skin. Bare from the waist up, Frodo’s slender frame bends forward, head ducking. Then his trousers are falling down his creamy thighs.

Sam swallows. He stares, wide-eyed, as Frodo steps out of his clothes. His rear visibly clenches in the open air, the tight muscles of his back shivering, though it’s a decent temperature. The stream probably isn’t. Frodo moves his foot into it and gasps, then groans. 

He falls slowly to his knees, deep enough to wash himself off. His hands scoop up little pools and slosh it back along his upper body, rubbing it in place. Sam doesn’t realize how long he’s been standing there, ogling Frodo, until Frodo glances over and calls, “Come on, Sam. It’s quite nice.”

Sam numbly nods. He wanders forward, all regret forgotten—the journey’s already been worth it, and there’s no chance of Sam ever turning back without Frodo Baggins.


End file.
